A Twist of Fate (1D series - Book one)

A ЂώζЅŧ of Fate ♪ Nine

A boy makes his girl jealous of other woman. A gentleman makes other women jealous of his girl. ~Anonymous

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A ЂώζЅŧ of Fate ♪ Nine

“JOEL!” I waved wildly like a mad woman on the street as I ran towards my long-time-no-see friend. I believed a few heads had turned at my crazy behaviour. But who cares? I was too excited to see him!

“JOEL!” I shouted again, panting as I tried to regulate my breath, holding my hand to my chest.

“I could hear you from miles away,” he laughed.

It all came back fondly. His familiar face; his twisted smile; his smile glistering eyes and his baritone voice. I missed my dear old friend!

“It’s been awhile,” I grinned.

He looked me over, eyes up and down over my body before he turned me around three hundred and sixty degrees.

“What?” I pouted. I felt naked under his searching eyes.

He laughed again, “You look different.”

“How? Where?” I turned in circles, trying to check what’s different about me.

He grabbed me by my shoulders to face him. “You are making me giddy,” he winced. “Let’s sit down somewhere.”

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“So,” I started as I swirled my straw around in my favourite caramel frap as we sat along the Starbucks street café. “What’s different about me?”

“Well,” he took a slip out of his latte before replying. “More feminine. Prettier.”

“More feminine?” I wriggled up my brows. How could I be more feminine? I spent my time on the drums in the studio with guys every day. It wasn’t as if I was out modelling or something. And I was still dressed in my favourite t-shirts and jeans.

“It’s not about your clothing,” he explained. “It’s more of a feeling.” He brushed his hand weaving through his hair. “Kinda hard to explain…”

He caught my dubious look and added hastily, “It’s not a bad thing though.”

I scratched my head and wondered what on earth he meant.

“So,” he continued. “What brings you all the way to San Diego?”

I debated if I should tell him the truth. Then I decided I might as well be done with it.

“I’m travelling with One Direction,” I informed him.

Both of his eyes shot wide opened. “I didn’t know you were into such stuff. I thought you were never a fan.”

“Not in that sense,” I said. He must be thinking I was following the boys on concert tour as a love-struck fan. “I signed a contract with them as their drummer.”

“You what?” he almost choked.

I shrugged. “I was offered a contract to play as their drummer. They needed a drummer.”